The Golden Flame
by OutlastTheDark
Summary: Hair as bright as the sun. Wit as sharp as a knife. Fire as powerful as a phoenix. These three qualities made her who she was. She was a champion of the Kirin-Tor. She was a hero of the Sin'Dorei. She was The Golden Flame. (On Hiatus)
1. Chapter 1: Partners

**Hey people! So this is a new story of mine, though it does tie in with the rest of the Broken Wings saga. Think of this as a prequel of sorts, though it can absolutely be read as its own story, as the plot is completely self contained. It will be shorter than most of my stories, but hopefully that won't deter. Let's get on with it!**

* * *

 **Partners**

* * *

A gloved hand ran through a mane of long blonde hair as a young elf, not even into adulthood, let out a soft curse as he stared up at the ceiling.

It was official. Varimas hated Dalaran.

Only a week had passed since his arrival in the old city of the mages, snuggled comfortably in the Silverpine Forests, the elf had been subjected to what felt like non-stop study and testing.

As a member of a House of high notability he had been raised from birth by his parents with the presumption inscribed in his mind that he would one day become a magi, just as many a Quel'Dorei had done since the city's founding so many years ago.

He had arrived only the day before, along with a good host of other students also traveling from Quel'Thelas, though unlike them, he was far from a willing participant in the whole affair. Unlike the others, Varimas' parents had forced him to travel to the city of mages with the excuse that it was so he could begin training to carry on the Sorrowsun legacy.

Varimas knew the truth though.

It was to get him away from his friends. Those 'horrible influences' that his own father would rather see hang than continue to support or interact with Varimas in any capacity.

His silent fuming was interrupted by a soft, almost inaudible, knock at the door, followed by the sound of said door creaking open, causing Varimas to steal a glance over at the doorway to find a female elf looking in at him, her light blue eye shining even in the dull morning light.

"Ex-... Excuse me?..." The female Quel'Dorei near whispered as she stuck her head halfway through the door, a nervous look in her eye.

"Hmm? Who're you supposed to be?" Varimas carelessly glanced back to his books, making a visible effort to be uninterested in the visitor, though if the young elf had picked up on the dismissive gesture, she did not acknowledge it.

"M-...my name is Valethria Brightsong sir..." The elf, Valethria, stuttered as she entered the room, her hands rubbing together nervously. "If I may ask, is this room 214?... I missed initiation yesterday and wasn't given a proper tour of Dalaran, so I'm kind of wandering around right now..."

Now that she was in the room, Varimas was able to get a better look at the young woman. In most respects, at least physically, she seemed to be a rather typical Quel'Dorei. Her hair was a bright blonde, rolled into a semi-formal bun that betrayed the true length of her hair, which was no doubt substantial. She was clad in the traditional robes of a Dalaran apprentice, though judging from the way she shifted around she was far from comfortable in them.

"Yeah, you got the right one. I assume you're my mysterious new roommate I've heard about since I arrived yesterday."

At those words, as if by verbal command, an evil glint suddenly appeared in the elf's eyes, glazing over the look of shining innocence that was once dominant with a look of mischievous intent.

"Great! Finally wandered into the right room this time!" All at once, the act seemed to fall as Valethria let out a sigh, her nervous frown replaced by a grin of excitement. With a flick of the wrist, a tendril of magic shot from her fingertips, shutting the door behind her. "You would not believe how many endless closets a there are in this damn tower!"

"Wait, hold on, what?" Varimas asked as Valethria strutted over and planted herself on his desk, examining the room with a curious gaze, taking in every nook and oddity that would otherwise go amiss by others.

Once Valethria was satisfied she turned her attention to the elf who's desks he had just claimed as her chair. "What?"

"What in the world just happened to the shy little elf that peeked her head into my room?!..."

"Oh that? That was an act." Valethria shrugged, holding her hand up to spark a small flame between her fingers, staring at the dancing ember as it waved around on her fingertips. "Figured the 'distressed maiden' shtick would get me some directions, just in case this wasn't the right room."

"Right that... Makes sense?..." Varimas trailed off as he turned his gaze downward to find that Valethria's posterior had moved onto his document, her robe covering the page almost completely. "Erm..."

"So since you're so obviously staring a places you shouldn't, don't you think it'd be polite to at least tell me your name?"

"O-oh, right. Varimas Sorrowsun at your service." Varimas muttered as his gaze shot back up, quickly giving the female elf a nod of the head.

"Wait! Varimas! I know that name!" Valethria suddenly exclaimed as a look of excitement flashed across her features, her once uncaring expression traded for a bright smile. "You're one of the three Terrors of Silvermoon aren't you?!"

"Terrors of Silvermoon?"

"Mhm! All the kids on my street talk about the three most infamous troublemakers in Quel'Thalas! Dawnblade, Windrunner, and of course..." Valethria jabbed a finger in Varimas' direction smugly. "Sorrowsun. Son of the magister who holds a seat on King Sunstrider's court."

"Guilty as charged I suppose." Varimas muttered as he pulled out his book from under Valethria before closing it and stuffing it into a drawer. With this new visitor, there would be no way he would be able to pay attention to the literature anyhow. "Though it hardly matters in a city like this."

Valethria tilted her head at the words of the male elf. "You okay there? Don't go getting all gloomy on me already, we only met a couple minutes ago. I gotta wear you down a bit before you start getting depressed."

"Right, you'll wear me down huh? You'd have to catch me first." Varimas muttered as he glanced down at Valethria's apprentice robes, which reached down nearly past her ankles. "And you won't be chasing anyone in those without breaking a few teeth on the pavement first."

"Ugh, I know... I hate this stupid thing..." Valethria hissed as she tugged at the light purple robes which bagged around her body like a pillow. It made her look horrible! "What I wouldn't give for a simple pair of pants right about now!"

"A pair of pants?" Varimas asked, an eyebrow raised. "Judging by the look of you, you've never worn anything besides a dress in your life."

"And you don't resemble one of the three terrors of Silvermoon either." Valethria shot back, reaching over to flick Varimas on the forehead, only missing at the last moment when the elf leaned back, far out of reach of her flick. "Looks aren't everything."

"Still though, if it's such an issue then just put on the pair they gave you when you arrived."

"The pair they gave me?"

"Right. The pair they gave you. They should've given you that along with the robes."

"I didn't get a pair!..." Valethria whined loudly before a childish pout appeared. Crossing her arms she let out a small huff. "This sucks."

Varimas held back the urge to roll his eyes. Apparently Valethria was not the most mature of elves.

"I suppose they figured you wouldn't need any. Why don't you take my pair? They haven't been used yet, and I'm sure if you draw the string tight enough they'll stay on." Varimas said, pointing towards a dresser as Valethria eyes lit up. "I can just tell the quartermaster they were incinerated in a fizzled fire spell or something."

"You, Sorrowsun, are just about my favorite person right about now!" Valethria as she walked over and retrieved the article of clothing, holding them as one would a newborn child.

However, once she realized nothing was said in response, Valethria glanced over at her new roommate, only to see Varimas staring idly out of the window, showing no real reaction to her statement.

"Alright, seriously. Are you alright?"

"...No, I'm not... You know the other two people who used to make up the so-called 'Three Terrors of Silvermoon'?" Varimas waited until he received a nod from Valethria before continuing. "Well when I was sent here, and not exactly willingly, I was forced to leave them behind."

"Ohh... Well not too sure want I can do about them not being here..." Valethria sighed before adopting a grin that Varimas was relatively sure he would be seeing quite a bit more of. "But if you're just looking for someone to hang around, I'm always taking applications."

"You?"

"Yep. We're already staying in the same room, might as well make the most of it, right?"

"I suppose so, yes."

"Well, whadd'ya say?" Valethria asked as she walked over and held her hand out towards Varimas. "Partners?"

Varimas glanced down at her hand, reaching over and shaking it. If this elf was even half as interesting as his friends, then perhaps his time at Dalaran would not be as miserable as he had previously assumed.

"Partners."


	2. Chapter 2: March of the Damned

**Okay. So apparently I forgot to update this one as quickly as I had intended. And by that I mean I meant to have had this done by now... Oops! Oh well! To chapter 2 we go!**

 **Raging Archon: Shhh... You saw nothing.**

* * *

The March of the Damned

* * *

Valethria let out a tired sigh as she magically unlocked the door to her room, clumsily fumbling around with the magical incantation in her mind as she watched the spell frizzle out a few times before finally succeeding in dispelling the magical ward placed on the hinge.

Today marked the third time this week.

The third time this week that she had been forced to spend almost all day being reprimanded by some of the more senior for her 'less than conventional' tactics and mannerisms both in and out of the class.

She let the torture of the last few hours of lectures slowly seep into the back of her mind as she gently pushed opened the door and found Varimas there, sitting over a small scroll, reading silently to himself with a frown on his face.

Varimas was certainly an interesting one, Valethria had decided long ago. He had certainly become much more extroverted since the two had become friends, adopting some of her sarcasm into his demeanor.

A negative for some, but an improvement in her eyes.

"Hey Partner."

"Evening Vale." Varimas replied, adopting a smug smirk, though he did not bother to glance over at the female elf, "How'd your chew-out session with the council go?"

"Oh, just _Peachy_!..." Valethria loudly groaned as she stumbled over to her bed and flopped down onto it like a fish, grabbing up at the air, sparks flying around her finger tips. "I mean come on! Just because I do things differently shouldn't mean I get screeched at for it!..."

Varimas sighed, realizing that her multi hour lecture had done little to drill any sort of lesson into her brain. "Just promise you won't ever set another apprentice's robes on fire ever again."

"Ugh... But-..."

" _Promise_ me."

"Fine... I won't set anyone's robes on fire anymore ' _father_ '..."

"Good."

Silence passed over the room for only a moment.

"...just their-..."

" _Vale_!"

"What?" Valethria laughed, bringing herself up to a sitting position as she watched as her friend rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner at her implied comment.

Varimas could only sigh at the young woman's words, though he could not eliminate the smile present on his face, at least until he found it in himself to turn back to his scroll, the unpleasant scowl to his face in a flash.

Apparently, at least according to the scroll that had arrived for him only minutes before, the Undead Scourge had recently obliterated Lordaeron, with some rumors that Prince Arthas himself, long thought to have been lost to the harsh north, was leading the Armies of the Damned.

Granted, these were only rumors, but something in his gut told him that the 'rumors' he now read about were more real, and more dangerous, than anyone wanted to admit.

"So where do you want to go for dinner?" Valethria spoke up, brining Varimas back to his present situation. "I think the Acadamy kitchens are closed for the night since an apprentice's conjuring spell went haywire."

"Which one?" Varimas asked, "Was it the gnome again?"

"Uh... No, I think it was that snooty one who keeps talking about-..."

Suddnely, a loud knock at the door caused the two to snap their attention to the entrance of their room, silencing any further conversation.

"Brightsong! Sorrowsun! Open this door at once!" A voice called out from the other side of the wooden door, sounding none too amused.

Valethria quickly worked to magically unlock the door, though that focus was immediately shifted to stiffening her posture to attention, along with Varimas, who had shot up from his chair.

They both silently bowed before none other than their Prince, Kael'Thas Sunstrider, who stood before them.

He nodded once, and as if by practice, the two stood, gazing at the prince in confusion.

"I bring dire news my friends." Kael'Thas muttered, his voice normal now that he wasn't screaming through the thick wooden door that separated the room from the rest of the building. "Have the two of you heard any rumors coming out of the other human kingdoms? Lordaeron for instance?"

"Yes, your majesty." Varimas replied, holding up the scroll he had just recently been scanning. "I was just reading a missive stating that Lordaeron was just recently sacked by the Undead."

"Correct Sorrowsun..." Kael'Thas nodded, his voice grim, "And they're now headed to Silvermoon at a blistering pace. They've already toppled one of our protective barriers that cut off Eversong from the rest of Lordaeron!..."

"You're..." Valethria nervously chuckled. "You're just _Joking_ right?... Right Kael?"

Kael'Thas could only shake his head solemnly. "I wish I was..."

Varimas seemed frozen in place for what seemed like an eternity, in truth only a few moments, before he snapped back to his senses, beginning to rush around the he room frantically. "I'll get the reagents for a portal ready! Vale, you start casting the initial stabilization spells!"

"Got i-..."

"Setting up the reagents for the portal would take too much time." Kael'Thas interrupted, causing both elves to stop what they were doing in order to glance at their monarch. "We'll just have to do this the old fashioned way."

With that Kael'Thas pulled out a small stone, which both Varimas and Valethria recognizes as a hearthstone, only with the Sunstrider family crest etched into the stone in place of the usual swirling design.

"Kael... I was under the impression that your father explicitly forbade use of that stone excluding emergencies!..." Varimas pointed out, his voice laced with worry. Was the situation truly dire enough for the Prince to consider angering his father? Was the Scourge threat truly that vast?

"And this isn't one?" Kael'Thas asked, answering Varimas' questions before they could even leave his lips. "The Damned are marching, and they refuse to halt their advance no matter what our troops seem to throw at them, be it arrow, spell, or sword!..."

Kael'Thas sighed and strolled past his two fellow high elves, who watched curiously as he walked to the window, staring down at the Mage city below them.

"Even Dawnblade's forces are struggling..." He admitted, clenching his fists. Dawnblade had been one of their best warriors, and now even he was missing. "The last anyone has seen of him he was rushing to meet up with the Ranger General, Sylvanas Windrunner, so that they could evacuate the outlying towns."

"Sylvanas-..."

"Wait. But why come to us? It's not like we're anything special," Valethria interrupted, giving a small shrug. "Especially considering the circumstances. We're only two elves, you'd have better luck in fighting off the Scourge if we-..."

"Untrue Brightsong." Kael'Thas interrupted, turning around to face she and Varimas. "While your methods tend to be 'unorthodox' none of us can deny that you are one of our best pyromancer trainees, even by elven standards."

Kael'Thas turned to Varimas.

"And while you have little to offer in terms of raw power, I find your eye for strategy and coordination admirable." He explained before holding out the hearthstone towards the two training magi. "I'll need you both fighting by our people's side right now... While we still have a people to fight for..."

Both Valethria and Varimas turned to each other for a moment, nodding once before turning back to the prince.

"We understand," Valethria spoke up. "We're ready to go, my Prince."

* * *

The moment that the three high elves found themselves on solid group once more Kael'Thas immediately sprung to action.

Without waiting to see if Varimas and Valethria were conscious, the elven Prince leapt to his feet and called back to them while making a break in the direction of Silvermoon City, "I'll go ahead, you two check in the village and see if there are any survivors hiding in the ruins!"

"Yes sir!" Valethria saluted, before turning to her partner, "Let's go Vari-... Huh? _Hey_! Varimas!"

Varimas is already headed towards the nearby village, which Valethria quickly recognized as Fairbreeze Village, a determined look etched on his face. His posture was rigid and practiced. A sign that he was only barely bottling up his emotion.

"Hey, wait up!..." Valethria called out as she ran after him, blinking a few times across the scorched ground in order to catch up.

When she finally was able to reach him he had already pushed in front of the door to the inn, charging in with a small knife drawn, presumably in order to counter any ambush.

When his eyes adjusted to the light of the inn he noticed that instead of the ambush of undead he had been expecting, he instead found multiple elves, civilian and merchants alike, all crouched down in corners, looking up at him in fear.

Valethria entered the inn just as Varimas began speaking, his tone loud and authoritative. "I need to speak to a solider at once!"

After a moment of tense silence a soft cough came from across the room.

"...Over here sir..."

Varimas glanced over to see a male elven soldier leaning against a wall, clutching a bandaged wound that seemed to still be open, at least if the stain on the back of his hand was anything to go by.

"Good, I need you to tell me where Dawnblade and his men are!"

"Dawnblade? No idea..." The solider grunted, bringing himself upright, though it was obvious such an action only intensified the burning pain in his side. "As far as I know he's missing in action..."

"What do you mean he's missing?!" The blonde haired elf yelled as he brought his fist against a wall, nearly knocking an expensive looking painting from it's perch in the process.

"I-I'm _sorry_ sir!... He lead the remaining defenders along with the Rangers in a last stand against the Scourge forces." The shaken soldier cried, nearly bringing his arm up to block whatever the other elf was capable of. "They were escorting a group of civilians to safety, that's all I know!"

Varimas suddenly cursed loudly and brought his hand against a vase, knocking it across the room, the fragile ornament landing in several different pieces across the room in a small pile.

Valethria meanwhile, could only watch in worry. Sure, she had known that Varimas had been the best of friends with Dawnblade and Windrunner, but she still had not been expecting this reaction from him, the usually calm but clumsy soul that barely had the ability to conjure a decent fireball.

Of course it was fair however. Hearing that a childhood friend is missing in the midst of what seemed like the apocalypse would stress anyone to a rather large degree, especially if that someone happened to have placed themselves between a group of civilians and the hordes of the undead that threatened to overtake them all.

Just then a shrill cry came from outside, bringing all elves in the inn to full alert. " _Survivors!_ Survivors at the town gates!"

Varimas ran out of the room in a moment. By the time the soldier and Valethria had caught up, the Varimas had already found the group, charging up to the leader of the group, a beaten and bruised merchant.

 _"You!..._ Were you being escorted by a band of warriors led by a Paladin?!" The blonde elf asked as the merchant, who appeared as if he had already seen more than enough hell in his his life, visibly shrank back.

"No sir... We found a way to move behind the Scourge's main force..." The merchant explained, pointing at a small path down the road that was nearly completely concealed in the shadows of the trees, running parallel to the main road. "We took the back path there."

"But... _Never_? You never saw any other living elves during your escape?" Varimas asked, the hope draining from his voice with each and every word he uttered.

"No... I'm sorry..."

Just then, as Varimas seemed to deflate at the news, a hushed gurgling noise from behind the group startled the elves, causing them all to turn around, some letting out loud screams as their eyes fell upon the hordes of walking corpses shambling towards them, flesh hanging off bone, jaws missing, and skin rotted away.

The Scourge had found them.

"Damn... Guess we're fighting our way out of the village." Valethria muttered as she let bright flames envelop her arms, a look of determination crossing her features as she stared down the encroaching horde of the Damned. "You ready Partner?"

"Yeah..." He whispered back, a look of murder settling into his eyes as he let out a breath, channeling arcane energy into his palms, raising his arms up to meet the Scourge. " _Ready_."


	3. Chapter 3: Carcharoth

Carcharoth

* * *

"Are you sure you want to do this?..." A hooded female elf, garbed in traditional red combat Kirin Tor armor, asked as she glanced over to her companion, a hooded Blood Elf male clad Ina dark purple robe. "Once you go down there, well..."

"I know... It's the only way..." The hooded male elf muttered back, his voice low so as to not attract the attention of any guards that may or may not end up catching a piece of their conversation as they wandered by on their patrol routes. "I'll never be strong enough otherwise..."

"Fine." The hooded female conceded, letting out a small sigh before taking the male's hand in her own, squeezing it gently. "...Just promise me you'll come back, alright Partner?..."

The hooded male only nodded before pulling away from the grip the hooded female's hand had on him.

"I promise..."

The hooded elf silently strode into the building that stood before them, not even bothering to glance back at the elf who had accompanied him to the darkened streets of Murder Row.

When inside he merely gave a simple nod to the merchant manning the desk, who nodded back and opened the latch, letting the hooded elf into the back of the store.

He passed the other elf without so much as a word of thanks before descending down a flight of winding stairs that eventually opened up into an immaculately decorated room, in the center of which stood 3 elves, all staring at him with various levels of scorn and curiosity.

The elf soon threw back his hood, revealing his long blonde hair to the world.

"Ah... Varimas Sorrowsun... You've arrived. Good. And here we thought you'd come to your senses and backed out..." The man in the center of the group, a blood elf with flowing black hair that reached to the middle of his back, said as he pulled out a small glowing shard. "Let us begin."

* * *

"This is your last chance. We've tried curses and basic fire magic, and both concepts seem to slip through your fingers like dust, despite your past training as a magister." The rough voiced elf said as he stood over Varimas, surrounded by strange creatures, all only a foot tall, dancing in an aura of fire. "However... Your ability to summon demons is rather impressive."

The blonde elf glanced up at the other elf, a look of determination in his eyes.

"If you can summon a voidwalker properly then we will accept you as one of us, and you will get proper training in accordance with your talents." The gruff elf explained, tossing a small purple crystal to the blonde elf before stepping back.

Using all of his focus, all of his magic, Varimas began to chant. Chant in a language which just a few months previous he had little, to any knowledge of. But now spoke it like master, hitting each word spot on.

Or at least so he thought. In the final moments, the last few words that flew from his mouth, the last part of the chant, he had unintentionally slipped up.

With a sudden rush of dark energy, Varimas brought his hands up into the air, and with a cry of adrenalin, he brought them back down, forming a small portal from which a strange large creature suddenly leapt, immediately diving onto one of the many men surrounding the blonde elf, tearing out the man's throat before he could even scream.

 _"Damn it! Felhunter!_ _ **RUN**_ _!"_

The sounds of screaming and flesh being torn echoed throughout the massive dark chamber for what felt like an eternity. One by one the robed men were felled around Varimas, all victims to the massive felhunter's fangs.

It was over in less than a minute. None of the men who had been standing before him, lording over him, had even stood a fraction of a chance against the demon, who was happily ripping the flesh from the gruff voiced man, swallowing chunks of bloodied muscle.

The blonde elf finally willed himself to open his eyes, and while what he saw had horrified him, disgusted him, at first, as he continued to stare, he could not but help but to marvel at the creature he had summoned.

Slowly, he picked himself up off of the ground and began to draw closer and closer to the demon, his outstretched hand nearing the beast.

At first the Felhunter began to growl, baring it's teeth at the the blonde elf. It did not attack however, which prompted the elf to draw closer and closer. With each step that the man took the demon growled.

However the Felhunter never lunged for him.

His hand finally made contact with the demon's head, the Felhunter giving a strange sound in response as it looked up at the blonde elf, who gave the demonic beast a warm genuine smile.

"I think I'll call you _Carcharoth_..."

Suddenly, when it seemed as if calm would once again surround the building, a loud crash echoes from upstairs along with a loud string of curses from a female blood elf.

The sound of rushing flames soon hits Varimas ears, though they themselves were drowned out by shrieks of pain from what was no doubt the shopkeeper who had previously granted him access to this private abode.

A moment later the hooded elf rushed down, her hands glowing brightly with white hot flames.

"Varimas! I heard screaming, are you alr-..." The hooded woman cut herself off as she removed her hood, staring in both fascination and horror at the carnage that had been out on full display. "What in the name of the Sunwell?..."

"It's alright Vale..." Varimas reassured, gesturing towards Carcharoth, who only huffed loudly in response. "I think he's friendly... At least to me..."

Valethria stared warily at the beast for a moment, giving the Felhunter a small forced smile.

It only stared back, growling lowly.

Realizing she would have to be the one to make the first move, Valethria hesitantly reached her hand out and began carefully petting Carcharoth, watching with suspicion which was soon traded out for a small smile once she realized that the demon would not be charging her.

She let out a soft chuckle as she continued to stroke the beast. "He's actually kinda cute... In a weird demonic kinda way."

"Sort of like you."

Valethria could only smile and walk over to Varimas, giving the newly recognized warlock a short hug.

"Thanks Partner..."

He nodded with a smile of his own before the two turned to leave, hand in hand, in order to prepare for the coming journeys ahead of them both.

.

.

.

" _HEY, WAIT A SECON_ -..."


	4. Chapter 4: Onyxien

**Outland**

* * *

 **Some of you may notice a similarity with another scene of mine. That's completely intentional. I won't keep you though, enjoy!**

* * *

"So we're in agreement on breaking that one elf's fingers when we get back, right?"

"Mhm."

Varimas let out a sigh of annoyance as he watched as Valethria repositioned herself behind the large slab of soot colored stone, her now green eyes glowing faintly in the gloomy haze of Shadowmoon's atmosphere.

He hated that color in her eyes. Every time he saw it he wanted nothing more than to berate himself over and over again.

She hadn't been like the other elves. She had resolved to stay away from the demonic energies that had been promised to them. Varimas however felt them too good to pass up, and due to the two of them being nearly inseparable Valethria was inevitably imbued with enough Fel energies to shift her eyes to the same sickly green as the majority of their people.

"You know we're gonna have to go out there eventually..."

"I know!... I'm just... Assessing our situation." He finally spoke, tearing himself away from his self loathing train of thought. There would be plenty of time for such behavior later, for now he had to be alert and ready for a fight.

And a fight certainly seemed imminent.

The two elves had been hiding behind the formation of degraded stone watching with perverse fascination as a large onyx skinned Netherdrake feebly fought against three fel orcs attempting to tie it down.

"You've been assessing the situation for nearly half an hour! What else is there to assess?!..." Valethria hissed, glancing over at her partner.

"Well if you're such a genius then you tell me how we're supposed to deal with this!..." He shot back, giving the other blonde haired elf a deadpan stare.

"Easy. Make big ugly red guys go boom."

"Oh well why didn't I think of that." Varimas sighed. There were days he was convinced half of her motivation for joining the Horde's whole excursion into the Outlands was just so she could make things blow up in spectacular fashion with no lasting consequence.

"Because I'm the brains, remember Partner?" Valethria roughly patted Varimas on the shoulder, giving a goofy grin. "You're the... You! You're the you!..."

"Oh, that instills me with a _load_ of confidence."

"Look, I'm thinking I may have an idea."

"Oh?"

"Instead of killing everyone and just turning the dragons head in for a reward... Maybe we can somehow get those dragons on our side, because if we do then we'll have a serious advantage in this whole conflict." She explained as her fingertips danced with small sparks as she prepared to launch a fireball towards the orcs.

"Yes, that's true, I'll admit... But how do you know it won't just turn on us the moment it's free?" The male elf asked with clear skepticism in his tone, only receiving a small dismissive shrug in return.

"I don't."

"Well then-... _Hey_! Vale!"

"Too late!"

The sound of the impact from the massive ball of magma that sailed from Valethria's hiding spot against one of the Orc's sides would have been almost humorous had Varimas not witnessed the aftermath as well.

The nearest Orc squealed like a terrified pig as his skin began to melt away from his side, the charred flesh dropping to the burnt sand in large chunks as he desperately attempted to soothe the unbearable burning sensation traveling throughout his body.

However, before he could take another step, the Orc's screaming was silenced as a second ball of magma slammed against his head, leaving only a stump in a matter of moments.

The second Orc barely had time to draw his sword from its scabbard before he exploded in a shower of crimson mist as a ball of demonic energy tore through his body, his limbs flying in every direction, leaving only a large bloody streak where the Orc once stood.

The dragon immediately took notice of the two new arrivals and began to thrash against the final Orc with renewed vigor.

The Orc of course attempted to fight back, giving the Netherdrake a solid punch in the jaw, a mistake he paid for almost immediately. As soon as the Orc attempted to pull back his fist he realized that it wouldn't budge. When he glanced down at his arm he found his hand had disappeared into the dragon's mouth.

A pained scream echoed throughout the valley as the Orc finally pulled away from the dragon's maw, his lower arm no longer present. He could only scream as he stared down at the bloody stump where his hand had once been for only a moment before he met the same fate as his first ally, the magma from another of Valethria's spells silencing him forever.

Once both Valethria and Varimas took a few moments to scan the remaining area for any other Orcs that they may have missed the two elves finally began to tentatively approach the dragon.

The Netherdrake only stared warily at the two, taking particular interest in Valethria who sauntered right up to its face with a smile.

Once she had approached the Netherdrake tensed up the muscles in its neck as it watched as Valethria began casting a spell, rotating her hands in a spherical motion as the arcane energies began to take form. Eventually the magical aura surrounding the conjured object began to fade away, revealing a small package of food in its place.

Varimas watched open mouthed as the large dragon began sniffing at the food in curiosity, taking a moment to glance up in suspicion before warily taking the food from the Blood Elf's hand, this time not removing it like it had done to the Orc's.

As the Netherdrake ate, Valethria reached over and began to pet its snout tenderly, giving a soft laugh, "I think I'll call you... Onyxien."

* * *

Varimas let out an almost inaudible sigh as he counted out the contents of a small pouch of gold, while another elf with a mask covered face flanked his side, watching with feigned interest as the Warlock counted out his reward.

"Sorry about the pay, but I can't give'ya the full reward without the dragon's head as well." The masked elf said as Varimas deposited the last golden coin into the pouch, tying the burlap baggy to his belt with a small shrug.

"I understand. It...it was probably too large to lug all the way back here regardless."

"Say, where's the cute one that was with you?" The masked elf asked as he glanced around the courtyard of the dimly lit spire that overlooked the elves, scanning the small congregation of Sin'Dorei in search of the Warlock's partner.

"Oh, Vale? She's uh-..."

Varimas' excuse suddenly found itself dying upon the tip of his tongue as the two elves heard a loud whoop of excitement along with various gasps and statements of disbelief from the other Blood Elves as seemingly everyone directed their attention to the forever dark Outland skies.

More specifically every pair of Fel Green eyes were drawn to the sight of Valethria swooping around on a large onyx Netherdrake that preformed a series of aerial acrobatics, spinning and twisting in the air as the elf upon his back whooped and hollered in excitement.

"That's... I..." The masked elf sputtered before shooting a glare in Varimas' direction. "I thought you said you killed the dragon!"

"I said we killed the Orcs. I said nothing about killing the dragon, I just said its head would've been heavy."

"So instead of killing it you decided to _Tame_ it?!"

"Hey, just be glad she's up there." Varimas chuckled as he and the masked elf watched the Netherdrake preform another stunt in the air, Valethria throwing fireballs in various directions as they spun, "She wanted to snap your fingers."

The masked elf was gone before Varimas could count to ten.


	5. Chapter 5: Wrath

Wrath

* * *

 _"Friendship is the only cement that will ever hold the world together." – Woodrow T. Wilson_

* * *

"You know, maybe Arthas wouldn't be such a sourpuss if this place smelled halfway decent..." Valethria muttered, holding her nose for dramatic effect as she, Varimas, and Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, Leader of the Forsaken, wandered throughout one of the many twisted hallways of the labyrinth that made up the interior of Icecrown citadel.

Sylvanas only hummed, obviously uninterested in sharing banter with the other elf.

"Are you sure this is wise?" Varimas spoke up, causing Sylvanas to stop in her tracks, "I know that retrieving information on Arthas and any possible weakness' the Citadel may have is important, but you're a major figurehead in all of this now. Shouldn't you-..."

"No. After all he's done to us all I'll settle for nothing less than the wholesale eradication of Arthas and his damned Throne." Sylvanas hissed, as if even mentioning the man's name burned his tongue. In all honesty, Varimas thought, it probably did to some extent.

"How does that translate to you helping us infiltrate Icecrown with us?" The Warlcok pressured. It wasn't that he lacked faith in the skills of the former Ranger-General, far from it, but so far even some of the most veteran champions of the Horde had fallen against the Lich King's forces. Who's to say the leader of one of its people would fare any better in the end?

"I can't risk trusting anyone else to finish this job, even you. It's my burden, I'd accepted that from the start, from the moment I declared the independence of the Forsaken." Sylvanas explained as the group made their way into what the Magen's who had used arcane magic to scout out the area had referred to as the Forge of Souls.

"Yeah, but don't you think you're being a bit stubborn?" Valethria pipped up.

"What did you just s-..." Sylvanas trailed off as her ears began to subtly twitch. Without a moments hesitation she nocked an arrow, "Hold on!... Did you hear that?..."

"Hear what?" Varimas questioned.

Valethria shrugged at the male elf's inquiry. "I didn't hear any-..."

" _You..."_

"Ok, never mind!..." The female Mage jumped, glowing orbs of fire manifesting in her hands as she began to scan the surrounding forges. "I dunno about whatever you heard, but I I heard the weird creepy voice just then!..."

" _You... Don't belong here_..."

"Alright, that's gonna have to stop right now..." Valethria muttered, obviously less than thrilled by the ethereal voice whisper fluttering each and every syllable into their ears like worms digging their war into a corpses brain.

Taking a defensive position behind Varimas, as she would later call it when he accused her of using him as a human shield, she began lighting the room with small balls of fire, the faint glow revealing the many bones and guts still littering the floor, no doubt from many past adventurers.

However it would soon be apparent that Valethria was far from the intended target of the voice's owner as a mass of black and purple armor suddenly collided against Varimas' side, sending both the Warlock and the purple and black clad man onto the floor, with the latter on top, furiously slamming his gauntlet covered fists down onto Varimas, who quickly brought his hands up in an effort to defend his face.

"Var!" Valethria cried, making for the spell book attached to her hip by way of a small chain that hung loosely from her belt.

Sylvanas let out a silent curse as she drew back her bowstring, only to hesitate when she notices it. Something that almost went unnoticed in the darkness of the hallways; the raven colored hair of the assailant.

"Wait a minute..."

Varimas, after realizing that Sylvanas had hesitated in her attack for whatever reason, quickly reached up and seized the wrist one of his attacker's arms, holding it with both arms as he growling out loudly, "Why you little-...!"

However all that anger vanished in a matter of a second. As soon as his vision cleared and he was finally able to take a look at the hood shrouded face of his attacker his grip loosened, allowing the figure to pull his grip free, though not before the Warlock uttered four words to him that halted his next blow mere inches before it struck.

"Hold on... Aren't you?-..."

The hooded figure stopped, leaning back to finally get a good look at its prey, and for the first time Varimas saw them.

The eyes that shown a bright runic blue, staring down at him in disbelief.

"Varimas?..."

An uncomfortable calm fell over the group. Not even the incomprehensible a rounds of Icecrown's undead occupants milling around seemed to reach the ears of the elves. Every chilled breath seemed to echo throughout the chamber like a rush of wind, every squeak of partially frozen metal scraping against the ground tearing into what would otherwise be silence.

The man finally seemed to drop from his stupor, finally bringing himself off of Varimas.

The Warlock then began to pull himself up, only to be met with a knee to the face which sent him back down onto the ice cold floor, clutching his nose, which had quickly begun to leak a crimson stream.

"OW! _DAMMIT_!" Varimas cursed, shuffling to his knees so he could shoot a glare at the armored man which stood over him, "What the hell?!"

"That's for leaving me to die." The man huffed, crossing his arms.

"I didn't leave you to-... _OW_!" Varimas cried, clutching at his side where the man had delivered a decisive blow to his side.

"That's for taking so long to get here!" The man continued, raising his foot once more.

"Alright, I get it! I get-... GODDAMNIT!" The Warlock yelled, clutching at his newly forming bruises with one hand while desperately clawing for the man's sabaton.

"And that's for not bringing any food!"

Varimas turned his attention away from wrangling the man's foot long enough to stare up at him in abject confusion, "Food?!"

"Do you know how hungry I am?!" The man asked, bringing his boot back for what seemed to be the hundredth time, "I've spent the last 8 years eating half frozen fruit and died meat!"

"How was I supposed to know you were even-... STOP KICKING ME!"

" _NO_!"

Valethria meanwhile could only watch the unfolding events with concern while Sylvanas, who had placed her bow on the wall beside her, silently examined one of her many arrows, obviously uninterested in Varimas' ongoing beating.

"Um, Lady Windrunner?" Valethria asked, turning to the Forsaken leader.

"Hmm?" She hummed, not even bothering to glance at the Mage.

"Should we... You know, stop him?"

"Who? Dawnblade? No, no this is just how they communicate. It's better to just let it play out it's course. They don't do any real lasting damage to each other." Sylvanas rolled her eyes, finally throwing her arrow back into her quiver, "Usually anyway..."

"Dawnblade?... Wait..." Valethria snapped her fingers as a wave of realization hit her, as evidenced by the wide smile on her face. "Isn't he the last member of the Silvermoon trifecta you and Var were part of as kids."

"One and the same."

Varimas meanwhile had spent the last few moments desperately fighting off the man Sylvanas had referred to as Dawnblade, literally crawling away form the man as he glared at the two female Sin'Dorei observing his plight, "Why are you two just standing-...?!"

Varimas was cut off as a plate boot slammed into his back, bringing him to the ground before what appeared to be an old rag was forced into his mouth.

The moment the cloth was in his mouth the Warlcok quickly pushed Dawnblade off of his back before yanking the cloth out of his mouth, gagging as he noticed the strange green stains that seemed to cover nearly every inch of the cloth. "What-... What in the name of the sun was on this?!"

"Oh that?" Dawnblade hissed, giving a smile for the first time since he appeared, "That's just the rag I use whenever the abominations drip their embalming fluid on my boots."

Varimas wasted no time rushing over to the edge, heaving loudly he laid on the floor, emptying his stomach.

Dawnblade seemed to enjoy his handiwork for a moment, watching with a sinister grin on his face before turning to the remaining two elves, seemingly finally noticing the blonde Mage which stared back at him, baffled. "Oh, forgive me, I didn't notice a third here."

"Er, hello..." Valethria greeted uneasily, glancing over the man's shoulder to watch as Varimas continued to vomit up whatever he had eaten for breakfast that morning, "Is Var okay over there?"

Dawnblade shrugged, stealing a glance of his own at the Warlock. "Uh, pretty sure."

"You bast-... _ULP_!..." Varimas was cut off as a fresh wave of nausea forced his head back over the edge, with even Sylvanas giving a silent wince at the horrifying wrenching sounds from the man.

"At any rate..." Dawnblade muttered, turning back to Valethria, who looked like she was having a hard time keeping down her own lunch as she listened to Varimas vomit, "Who exactly are you? I can't say I remember seeing you around before at all."

"Oh," She exclaimed as she seemed to break out of her stupor, a proud smile flashing onto her face, "I'm Var's betrothed!..."

"Betrothed, huh? I suppose I've been replaced." Dawnblade said as he turned to give an exaggerated pout to Varimas, who had finally finished vomiting, and was laying uselessly on the floor of the citadel, quietly groaning, "I'm hurt Varimas."

"Oh, you're hurt?!..."

"How long are you gonna lay there?"

"Eldoar ahar'odin!" **(Burn in hell!)**

"Well in case you haven't noticed, hell is a bit cold at the moment." Dawnblade said as he motioned to the various pieces of Scourge architecture, which seemed to offend the senses by their very presence, before sighing, "What are you all doing here? This isn't the sort of place you want to be caught in."

"Recon. Looking for a chink in the armor to exploit..." Sylvanas finally spoke, her own voice matching Dawnblade's, the echo only amplified by the massive walls and high ceiling of ice which encapsulated them in the Forge of Souls. "I'm more interested to know why you're here though."

"I was one of the lucky ones... If you want to call it that." Dawnblade muttered, raising his hand, which began to glow with bright runic magic, the air surrounding him suddenly dropping in temperature, which Varimas and Valethria had previously impossible, at least if their shivering was anything to go on.

Sylvanas however did little more than grimace. "You're a Death Knight then?"

"Mhm..."

"Then why are you breathing?"

Valethria and Variams found themselves both staring at Sylvanas in abject confusion for a moment before their eyes traveled to Dawnblade. True to the Banshee's word, his chest was rising and falling softly, so softly that if they hadn't been paying attention they would have surely missed it, though when they did finally notice it was hard to deny.

"It's a long story, too long to recount here." Dawnblade replied, his tone dropping in sync with his mood, which seemed to all but evaporate any positivity which once was present, "I can get you where you need to go though. Follow me."

The three remaining elves glanced at each other before following the hooded man deep into the bowels of the Citadel, both Varimas and even Sylvanas watching the man with a measure of worry in their expressions.

"Talk about a tonal shift..." Varimas muttered as he watched his friend marching ahead of them, his gaze locked on the path before him.

"Hey Var?... Was Dawnblade always this... You know..." Valethria asked, to which Varimas gave a shrug.

"No, Zai-..." The warlock was cut off as the hooded man in question suddenly whirled around, causing the three elves following him to halt in their tracks, the Mage of the group even jumping a bit in surprise.

"Let's get one thing clear, before we go any farther. I _never_ want to hear that damn name again..." He warned, his voice deadly serious. "I never want to hear the name of that man again. My name is Wrath. Wrath Duskblade. Am I understood?"

Varimas gave a quick nod, the Death Knight staring at him for what seemed like an eternity before he whirled back around, continuing to stalk down the dark corridors of the citadel.

It was nearly a full two or three minutes later before Varimas finally found his voice once more, though it's tone lacked the confidence both Valethria and Sylvanas were accustomed to, "...To answer your question Vale... No, I've never seen him like this before..."

"You blame him?" Sylvanas asked, her eyes trained ahead at the man's back, scanning over his shoulders for any oncoming Scourge.

"Maybe if we get him a cat or something?..." Variams suggested, only to falter when an humorless ethereal laugh echoed throughout the hallway.

"Don't be foolish Varimas," Wrath muttered, "You know I hate cats..."


End file.
